I'm Waiting For the Man
by KathDMD
Summary: Lance falls in love with the buttery brown leather bomber jacket of his dreams. How he's ever going to afford it is another story.


_Author's Note_ _: Lance's brown leather jacket is iconic, and for those of us who adore him in one capacity or another, it symbolizes him. While in Las Vegas in February 2015, I was browsing through the Cole Haan store in the Palazzo Hotel (after a spectacular Bloody-Mary-filled brunch with_ ** _sunshineleo_** _), and I came across a brown leather jacket that eerily reminded me of Lance's. As I stared at it, this song came on, and a lightbulb went on over my head. This is how ideas in my universe are born._

 _I own only my own characters. WEP owns everything else._

 _This story is dedicated to_ ** _sunshineleo_** _. Lyrics, as always, are dedicated to_ ** _Mer3Girl_** _._

* * *

 _"He's never early, he's always late_

 _First thing you learn is that you always gotta wait_

 _I'm waiting for my man…_

 _Hey baby, don't you holler, don't you ball and shout_

 _I'm feeling good, I'm gonna work it on out..._

 _I'm feeling good, feeling so fine_

 _Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time_

 _I'm waiting for my man."_

 _\- The Velvet Underground, "I'm Waiting For the Man"_

* * *

The great Lance McClain was not a shopper.

He was a lot of things in life. A player, a lover, a roommate. A pilot, a shooter, a student (an almost-exceptional one...at least until mid-term scores were released, anyway) at the Space Academy. He had once been a stoner and a user; he had once been a son who pitted his divorced parents against each other. He'd been the man who had broken too many laws to count and had seen his best friend, Ronnie, land in juvie. But, to be clear, he was _not_ a shopper.

Until he saw _it._

 _It_ was an advertisement for some men's shop. "A haberdashery, I believe is the correct term," his crazy Viking of a roommate, Sven Holgersson, had informed him in his silly accent. "Though, in all fairness, I can't believe that _you_ would be so obsessed with an article of clothing. _Herregud."_

At that moment, Lance had really wanted to remind Sven that it was better to be obsessed with an article of clothing than the girl with the black lips in the corner room, but he liked his life and decided against it. "Dude, it doesn't matter what the heck the place is called. The only thing that matters is the fact that they have the most spectacular brown leather bomber jacket I have ever seen in my life."

Sven snorted. _Is that snorting a navigator thing, or a Viking thing?_ "Don't expect me to go with you to buy it."

"Yeah, well, we all know brown's not your color, Man in Black." He shrugged at his roommate nonchalantly as if he didn't want Sven to come with him anyway.

In all honesty, Lance really _didn't_ want the crabby Norwegian there with him when he bought the jacket - and it didn't matter how much the jacket cost, it was going to be his no matter how he had to get the cash. But he needed an audience. He wanted someone to _ooh_ and _aah_ over how good he looked in this leather bomber, someone to reinforce his belief that it was a good idea to drop that much money on a single item of clothing.

Maybe he could get Ginger to come with him.

Ginger Ellington, with those sky-blue eyes and that perfect halo of golden curls. _Yeah. Ginger. I bet she'd_ _love_ _to watch me try on clothes._ Lance, admittedly, had a rather large crush on the bubbly blond, and he knew that the feeling was mutual. Heck, she'd practically pounced on him within the first month of classes. If that wasn't enough of a clue, then what was?

 _Yeah. I'll ask Ginger to come with me. And maybe we can close the deal afterwards._

With that one thought, he made up his mind. Lance was going to buy that brown leather bomber jacket if it was the last thing he ever did. Because the ladies would dig it. _Especially_ Ginger.

* * *

Tsuyoshi "Hunk" Garrett and Darrell "Pidge" Stoker roomed together on the third floor of Building #686, but their counterparts, Rocky Shinobu and Chip Stoker, lived in Building #672. The distance never seemed to matter, though. One way or another, the four of them always ended up in the same room.

Usually, it was Chip and Rocky making their way over to the third floor of #686.

"So what's been goin' on over this way?" Rocky asked in his thick Brooklyn accent, stretching his arms over his head. "Whattaya been up to, Hunkeroo? Whatcha been doin' with Cinda?"

Hunk looked up from his reading tablet. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding offended.

Rocky exchanged a glance with the Stoker twins, then rolled his eyes. Hunk was oblivious; he was the only person at the Space Academy who _didn't_ see how crazy the blue-skinned Miran girl was about him. "Nothin'," he answered in the same ticked-off tone.

"Hmph. Sounds like you were insinuating _something_."

"Guys! Don't start up again." Chip blinked at both of them behind his thick glasses. "And besides, Hunk, congratulations. I didn't think you knew a word like _insinuate_ , let alone how to properly conjugate it and use it in a sentence."

Shooting a knowing glance at Rocky, Hunk's expression turned poisonous as he glared at the older of the Stoker twins. "I am gonna _kill_ you, Short Stack. Make no mistake about it."

Rocky stifled a laugh behind his hand.

"Oh, calm down, Big Guy." Pidge reassuringly placed his hand on his roommate's shoulder. "Besides, Rocky didn't mean anything by that, I swear. He just wanted to know how Cinda was doing, that's all."

"Yeah. _Geez."_ Well, that hadn't been _quite_ the message behind his words, but the Brooklynite was willing to roll with it. "I mean, she's your engineering partner _and_ she lives on your floor. What's with you gettin' all bent outta shape?"

"Ugh." Hunk leaned back in his desk chair, crossing his arms over his burly chest.

"Besides, Cinda is cute." Rocky loved watching his friend get all riled up. "Hey, if _you're_ not interested, maybe you can help your man out and set me up on a date with her."

"Uh-oh," Pidge muttered, glancing nervously at his twin. "Explosion in three...two...one…"

"ARE YOU FREAKING _CRAZY_!" Hunk bellowed, jumping up from his seat, red-faced and sweating. " _WHY_ would I set a nice girl like Cinda up with somebody like _you_?" Without waiting for an answer, he stormed out of the dorm room. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he had to get away from Rocky before he punched the guy's face in.

"Whoa," Chip exhaled once the room was quiet.

"Yeah," Rocky agreed. "Who'dda thunk he'd get all that bent outta shape over a girl? He must have it bad for her and don't wanna admit it. Not even to himself."

And though, in these matters, the Brooklyn native was not often correct, in this case, the twins both believed that he was right on target.

* * *

Lance stood outside Ginger's door. He wasn't one to hesitate, but he _was_ one for total, complete, and utter secrecy. If he was going to do this - and potentially kick-start a hook-up relationship with the bubbly blond - then he needed to make sure there were no witnesses.

The hallway was deserted; all was quiet. He stuck his ear to the door, listening to hear if the two girls were in there. Obviously, he hoped Ginger was. But if it was only Lisa, her lovely roommate, then he would have to come up with some brilliant excuse as to why he was knocking, maybe something to do with FLGHT101. After all, just about everybody on the floor and their brother - which happened to be true, by the way - was in that class.

As he lifted his fist to the door for the knock, he heard another door close by fly open, then slam shut. Both motions sounded violent and angry.

 _Well, so much for that._ Lance turned his head to see Hunk storming out of his dorm room, enraged and red-faced, heading for the staircase in the middle of the hallway. "What the heck happened, Garrett? I've never seen you so angry before."

The large engineering student was so mad, he looked about ready to cry. "Nothin'," he answered harshly, balling his hands into fists. "I mean, nothin' that should matter, anyways."

The crafty cadet's head began to swim with ideas. _Hey, if Plan A doesn't work, the letters B through Z are still available._ "Don't say anything right now, Hunk. I've got an idea. How about you and me go out for pizza, and then you can tell me what's wrong once you've got some food in your stomach?"

 _The way to a man's heart is_ _always_ _through his stomach._

At those words, Hunk seemed to calm down. "Yeah, that sounds good...but I don't have my wallet on me," he admitted sheepishly. "And I sure as _heck_ ain't goin' back in that room to get it."

Lance wrapped one arm around his larger friend's shoulder. "No problem, man. It's on me. C'mon, let's get outta here."

So they headed for the staircase in search of a cheap pizza joint, Plan B forming in Lance's head all the while.

* * *

After her disastrously boring HIST101 class was over, Ginger met up with her roommate, Lisa Kaga, to walk back to the dorm with her. The lovely brunette with the shimmering dark hair and ebony eyes would be finished with one of the courses pertaining to her specialty, Interplanetary Relations, which sounded even more boring to the bubbly blond than Intro to History. She stood outside the door, waiting for the instructor to open it and let the class out for the day.

 _It seems like this instructor never wants to let the freakin' class out on time,_ she groaned to herself as every course but Lisa's headed out the door. _God, I'd kill myself if I was in Interplanetary Relations._ _Or_ _,_ she grinned, _maybe I'd have naughty fantasies of Lance McClain to pass the time._

The bubbly blond Texan harbored a secret crush on Lance. Not that she'd told anyone, of course. That was too... _taboo_...to admit to. But she did. She understood the troublemaker-slash-hot-mess better than anyone else was able to, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he felt the same way about her.

When the door finally opened, a swarm of students rushed out. Ginger shot a dirty look at two of the girls from the fourth floor of their building, LeeLee Chow-Xiang and her roommate Alicia Bedford, the one with that stupid pink streak in her blond hair. She knew that they both had a crush on that gorgeous guy from her floor, Aidan Dalloway...and, well, Lisa did too. Anything she could do to stick up for her roommate, she would.

When Lisa finally dragged herself out of the classroom, staggering under the weight of her messenger bag, Ginger grabbed her hand. "Come on, Roommate!" she chirped. "Let's get home for the day."

"Only if you help me carry my stuff. My bag weighs a ton."

"Oh, fine, you big sissy." Ginger opened the flap on her roommate's bag and pulled out a few items. There were several ionic notepads, a couple of reading tablets, and - antiquated enough - a genuine textbook. Apparently, Navigation and Interplanetary Relations were the only two specialties that still required books on paper. "God, I thought these were outlawed, like, a dozen centuries ago."

"Well, apparently, the Academy never got the memo." Lisa made a face.

As they trudged down the hallway, they ran into the man himself - Aidan Dalloway - and his roommate, Clifford Jack. _Wow, they are definitely two fine blond specimens,_ Ginger thought as they all bumped into each other. _Too bad neither one of them is sarcastic as Lance._

"Hello, girls!" Cliff greeted them cheerfully in his Australian accent, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "How were your classes?"

"Ugh. HIST101 is _awful_." Ginger made a face.

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Aidan rolled his blue eyes, shaking his head. "I'm gonna flunk that class for sure." He paused to bestow a winning smile on Lisa. "That is, of course, unless _you_ wanna help me study for it, Cadet Kaga."

 _Oh boy._ Ginger knew how bad her roommate's massive crush on the beautiful blond was. She wasn't sure if it was his bad-boy tendencies or his ponytail. Most of their fellow female cadets really dug Aidan's long hair.

"In your dreams, Cadet Dalloway," Lisa blushed.

Cliff cleared his throat. "Well, are we all headed back to the dorms now? I know _I'm_ done with classes for today. So is my Mate."

"We are, too," Ginger volleyed back.

"Crikey. You don't suppose McClain is off for the rest of the day, do you? If so, it would be great to hang back tonight." The Aussie winked back at the bubbly Texan. "The whole lot of us."

As Lisa sighed, her roommate pronounced, "I'm down."

But when they returned to Building #686, Lance was nowhere to be found.

* * *

"You know, for the price they charge per slice, this pizza should be better." Hunk's eyebrows furrowed in disappointment as he chewed. "Mark this one down as a _Nope_."

"Hey, I don't care so much about the price as I do about the pepperoni. I'll pay anything if the pepperoni is good." Lance peeled a piece of the mystery meat off his slice and chewed. "And this one is terrible. _Terrible!"_

"Yeah." Hunk's pizza had nearly everything on it: pepperoni, sausage, meatballs, green peppers, onions, olives, and four different types of cheese. "The sausage an' meatballs ain't much better, man."

"Well, scratch this joint off the list." Lance made a face as he swallowed. Despite their meal being not-so-great, everything was going right according to plan. He was buttering the engineer up and calming him down from whatever had gotten him so riled up back at the dorm. It was only a matter of time before he convinced Hunk to watch him model that brown leather jacket. "I suppose we can report back to Rocky and the rest of the crew."

"I s'pose." Hunk looked down at his slice, not wanting to remember his earlier argument with the Brooklynite. "Though I'm not down fer talkin' with Rocky right now. The dude just...he knows how to push all my buttons, that's all."

"I see." If this was as far as Hunk would go in opening up, Lance wouldn't force him. Besides, he was desperate to get to that men's shop. "Well, I suppose good friends know how to push all your buttons. Look at me and Sven. Nobody drives me crazy the way the Man in Black does."

"Yeah, I guess so." The large engineer looked down at his uneaten and not-so-appetizing slice of pizza.

"So Hunk, can I talk you into doing me a favor?"

He shrugged. "Depends."

"Wanna see the most beautiful leather jacket that God ever put on this good earth?"

* * *

On some level, Lisa knew that it couldn't possibly be a good thing that she and her roommate had been hanging out with Cliff and Aidan all afternoon. It felt dangerous. Plus, they all would have been better served by spending that time studying.

Then again, she _did_ enjoy spending so much time innocently lounging on Aidan's bed.

"I can't believe McClain's been out all afternoon," Cliff groaned, leaning back against his desk. "What could he possibly be doing? I mean, I know he's a good pilot and shooter and all that, but even he has got to study for HIST101 at some point."

"So do we all," Ginger sighed in frustration. _Plus, I'm getting sick of waiting for my man._

Technically, Lance _wasn't_ her man. But he was the one she'd set her sights on. He was the only cadet on the campus who left her feeling like he was worthy of her, all slick and crafty and so incredibly... _hot. He's like a man,_ she thought deliriously. _Built like one, smart like one. Maybe he's not exactly mature like one_ _yet_ _, but he's capable of getting there._

"Hey," Lisa pouted, "does that mean you guys aren't having a good time with me and my roommate?"

Aidan smiled over at the girl sitting on his bed, almost as though he was tolerating her simply because he'd heard about her crush on him through the communal grapevine. "Nah, who said anything about that?"

"Well, you guys have been whining all afternoon about where Lance McClain is. It feels like you're not enjoying our company." Then, with a poker face, she added, "I know when I'm not wanted."

Cliff and Aidan exchanged glances, then the ponytailed roommate lifted an eyebrow. "Nobody said you weren't wanted, Sweetheart."

Lisa blushed about seventy shades of red.

 _Red. That's my man's color._ Ginger rocked back and forth on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees. This was getting old, and _fast_ , watching her roommate flirt with the boy she had such an enormous crush on. They were going around in circles, and if Lance didn't hurry up and join them, she was going to start pounding her head against the wall.

She wondered if Cliff felt the same way.

* * *

Hunk whistled as Lance modeled the jacket. The buttery leather was a rich reddish-brown color which set off his hazel eyes and his hair, and the cut skimmed his torso just enough so as to seem relaxed and casual, but still polished. "Wow, McClain. That thing looks like it was made for you."

"It does, doesn't it?" The cadet turned and studied his reflection in the mirror. _This thing fits me perfectly. It really_ _was_ _made for me._ "I mean, it's the nicest jacket I've ever put on in my entire life."

It was also nicer than anything he had ever owned back in Pender, Nebraska, but he wasn't willing to admit to that. Instinctively, he glanced down at the price tag. He hadn't wanted to know the cost of the jacket before, but now he needed the information.

He blinked. And blinked again.

There was no way he would ever be able to afford it. No. Freaking. Way.

It was such a _tease_! That beautiful color; that supple, buttery leather; the custom fit. Yes, even he conceded that it was worth that much money. But it was still a tease, to be so perfect and cost so much and for him to have no way of ever affording it.

Hunk noticed the look on his face. "What's the problem?"

"I just saw the price."

"Oh?" The engineer walked over and lifted the price tag. "Huh," he murmured, lost in thought, as he looked at the astoundingly-high number.

"Yeah." Lance frowned. _"Huh."_

"I'm guessing you don't got that much cash in your back pocket?"

"Nope. Not even close."

Hunk grinned. "Lemme see what I can do."

* * *

The hallway was quiet, and with his roommate gone, his dorm room was, too.

Sven had no idea where Lance was or who he might be with, but he didn't much care. He tended to stay by himself and mind his own business. If his roommate wanted to fill in the blanks later, then he would listen. But he probably wouldn't ask questions.

The Norwegian opened his book to the current NAV101 chapter. His chosen specialty was close to his heart - both of his parents had been navigators until their tragic deaths. Not that he liked to broadcast that information, of course, but along with his own ensuing poor choices, it had shaped him into the young man he'd become.

As he settled into the chapter, he heard a knock on the door.

 _Of course._ With a groan, Sven answered, glaring at whoever might be on the other side. Well, he tried not to glare _too_ hard. It could have been his crush, the girl with the black lips, standing in the hallway.

"Viking! Where's your roommate?"

No such luck. It was Jeff Aki, one of his next-door neighbors. "Gah! How should I know?"

Jeff ignored him, weaseling his way into the room and plopping down onto Lance's beanbag chair. "I'm taking a study break. I figured I might want to spend it with the ones I love." He stroked the red pleather. "Good thing the most important one out of the three of you is here."

"Jeffrey, please get out of my room before I kill you."

"Geez, Holgersson, keep your hat on, will you?" He glanced over at the book. "What are you studying?"

"Navigation."

"Hmm. I'm surprised you didn't ask Morgan to help you." Jeff was referring to Morgan Feld, the girl on their floor who was fast becoming his closest friend. She was a fellow navigation student, super good at math, in most of Sven's classes, and not-so-secretly in love with Jeff's roommate Keith.

 _And_ she lived in the coveted corner room with Lenora Stensson, the black-lipped object of Sven's crush.

"I did." He shrugged, trying to appear as though he didn't care. "No one answered."

"Yeah, that's right." Jeff looked thoughtful. "Len is in Building #672, studying Systems Analysis with Chip and Pidge. And Morgan is upstairs on the fourth floor, studying something or other with that dude Andrew." He made a face. "At least, I _hope_ they're studying."

"Jeffrey, from the amount of information you've gathered on our floormates, I'm surprised _you've_ gotten any studying done at all."

"Well, no thanks to you, I don't have any leads on _your_ roommate."

Sven rolled his eyes in reply. "Feel free to leave my room at any time." He added a few Norwegian curses under his breath, wishing to be left alone with his navigation and silence. Because once Lance returned, there would be no such thing as silence.

* * *

Hunk dragged Lance to the ratty pawn shop on Ninth and 47th, brimming with excitement as they burst through the doors. "Dude, I only heard about this place through the engineering program," he whispered in a reverent awe. "Nice to know that everything they said was true."

"Dude, it's a frickin' _pawn shop_." The words left a bad taste in Lance's mouth. What the heck were they doing there, and how was it going to help him on his quest to acquire that gorgeous leather jacket? "What, were we gonna find the exact replica here?"

Hunk snorted with disdain. "Oh, ye of little faith. Watch and learn."

The cocky piloting student had no idea who to watch or what to look out for. His hazel eyes scanned the joint; the cases and cases of old and broken jewelry, sparkling loose gems, battered and worn clothing. The place was nearly deserted, too, as though New York City couldn't be bothered to acknowledge yet another low-rent establishment. Hunk, though, looked enraptured, practically beaming as he headed straight to the jewelry case.

"Dude. Found it."

Lance followed the engineer to the glass case. Inside was an array of old, broken watches of every color and type imaginable. He'd never seen so many in one place before.

Hunk flagged over the sales associate. "That one," he instructed, pointing to a piece in the case which Lance wasn't exactly sure of. "I'd like to see it."

"Certainly." The salesman retrieved the object in question and set it out on the counter for them to inspect.

Lance's first thought was, _What in blazes_ _is_ _this piece of garbage?_ It was, on closer inspection, a pocket watch which _might_ have fetched them a good sum of money had it been in halfway-decent shape. But it was so broken, so beaten-up, and so tarnished that there was no way it would even cover a slice of cheap pizza.

Hunk didn't seem to agree with his assessment. "How much?"

Lance watched, somewhat impressed, as the engineer haggled the price with the sales associate. In the end, Hunk talked him down to just under five dollars, which the piloting student was inclined to agree with. Lance paid for the pocket watch, and in moments, they were out the door, on the street, and headed back to the dorms.

"Dude. What just happened?"

Hunk grinned with pride, clutching the watch between his thumb and forefinger. "This little baby right here is gonna buy you the leather jacket of your dreams, McClain."

"Somehow, I seriously doubt it."

"Oh, you do, eh?" Hunk's green eyes twinkled ferociously. "Look, I know what yer thinkin'. Yer thinkin' that this ugly, broken piece of junk that you just bought - this thing that probably hasn't worked in the last century, I bet - was just money down the toilet. But lemme tell you something: this thing is a genuine antique. And I know how to fix it up."

Now Lance was intrigued. "You do?"

"Boy, there ain't never been anything _built_ that I couldn't fix."

"Okay. I trust you." He shrugged. "But what do you plan to do with it?"

"Well, this thing looks like it might be a few hundred years old. Maybe more." Hunk paused on the street to study the remnants of the watch. "If I fix the remaining mechanics, maybe replace part of them...neutralize the tarnish, replace the glass, add a new cover - and I've definitely gotta hand-forge the cover...Dude, I'm thinking we could go to auction and get a pretty penny for it. Enough to cover the price of your jacket. Or most of it, anyway."

Now it was Lance's turn to stand still. "And you would do that for me?"

Hunk shrugged. "Hey, I like doing this stuff. It's fun for me. And it's the least I can do to thank you fer gettin' me the heck outta the dorms today and calmin' me down." He winked. "And Rocky thanks you, too. I'm sure he's glad that I didn't rearrange his ugly mug."

 _Ah. So he_ _was_ _really upset because of Rocky. I wonder what the other big guy did?_ "Okay, so say you actually do spiffy it up and take it to auction. Who's gonna buy it?"

"Anybody. A gentleman. A watch enthusiast. An antiques collector. A steampunk cosplayer? You never know."

No. The engineer was right about that. One never knew where one would end up, or who one would end up with. And in this case, Lance was really, _really_ glad that he and Hunk had ended up together that afternoon.

* * *

Once mid-terms were over, things began to settle down on the third floor of Building #686. Sven had finally convinced his black-lipped Lenora to be his girlfriend, and Morgan had persuaded a reluctant Keith to be her main guy. Lance had continued his secret flirtation with Ginger and had embarked on a quest to claim her as his ultimate prize, while Lisa continued to crush on Aidan from afar.

However, Cinda Kirigas, the blue-skinned Miran girl who specialized in engineering, was dumbfounded that her study partner Hunk had practically disappeared off the face of the planet.

"I don't even know what he's doing," she complained to her roommate, Kelly Asimov, as she poured a glass of citrus-flavored seltzer into her glass. "Hunk _never_ works on projects without me. He's my engineering partner! Why would he run off and not tell me what he was doing?"

"Eh. Boys." The Bajan rolled her hazel eyes. "We can't keep track of 'em, no? That's what my friend Clifford Jack says, and I believe him."

"Yes, well, Clifford Jack is perhaps the wisest of all the guys on this floor. I'd follow him anywhere, even into battle." Cinda took a swig of her seltzer. "I just wish I knew what Hunk was doing. I'd help him if I could."

"Yeah, Blue Girl, I'm sure you would." Kelly plopped herself down onto her mattress and closed her eyes, resting her head against the pillow. "And don't talk about following Cliff into battle. You've just jinxed yourself."

"Ha."

The room was quiet for a long time. While Cinda adored her roommate, Kelly wasn't the sort of person who could read her with solely a glance. That was something only Hunk could do. And if he was working on a project without her, well, that was the worst sort of feeling she would ever experience.

* * *

Neither Hunk nor Lance could take their eyes off the gleaming steampunk-themed pocket watch once it was completed.

It was gorgeous. No, it was _beyond_ gorgeous; Hunk had certainly outdone himself on this project. The pocket watch gleamed, bronze and hand-carved and lustrous beneath the lousy fluorescent overhead lighting. "Wow. No one would ever know that this thing was a junked-up piece of trash when we bought it."

"I'll take that as a compliment." The engineering student shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but he was utterly pleased. "I'm glad you like it."

"If we put this up for auction, we'll definitely get enough money to cover that jacket," Lance gushed.

"Pretty sure."

"Do you have an idea for an auction house?"

Hunk nodded. "That's the best part of bein' in the engineering department. They tell us all the craziest stuff! Don't worry, I've got a place where we can sell this thing, cash the check and be on our way to buyin' yer fancy-pants jacket in no time."

Lance was fairly certain that he didn't want to know what exactly what was going down in the engineering department at the Space Academy. But he did know that he was willing to follow its advice if it meant that he could get his hands on the leather jacket of his dreams. Now he could only hope and pray that it was still available.

* * *

Friday nights were usually bustling in the dorms. There was always something going on: dates, parties, people hanging around, people going out. And for some reason, the same three boys - Lance, Cliff, and Aidan - always seemed to be in the thick of things. But tonight, Sven's roommate was missing in action.

So was Hunk, but nobody except Cinda thought twice about that, and certainly no one ever would have paired the large engineer with the cocky flyboy.

"I hate when Lance takes off without telling us," Jeff whined to his roommate.

"I don't see why," Keith Kogane shot back, running his hands through his long hair to mess it up. He stared at his reflection in the tiny mirror for a moment, then changed his mind, smoothing the blue-black locks and tying it back in a ponytail. "I mean, it's not like you spend a lot of time with him. _Or_ go hunting for girls with him and the two dumb blonds."

"You mean Jack and Dalloway?"

"The same."

"McClain is different. He's so... _cool._ Way more down-to-Earth than the other two."

Keith shrugged. "If you say so. Personally, I think he can be obnoxious. I don't know how Sven puts up with him."

"Yeah, well, I don't see how Len can put up with Sven, but maybe that's just me." Jeff looked up from his reading tablet. "Where are you and Morganza going tonight?"

"Not sure. Maybe a movie?" He turned to face his roommate. " _Definitely_ Mexican food."

"Oh yeah, for sure on that." Jeff frowned. "If McClain and the Viking are out, maybe I can break into their room and steal the beanbag chair."

Keith wasn't sure whether or not his roommate was serious. "You have an unhealthy attachment to that thing, Aki." Then he turned back to the mirror, where he groaned, pulled his hair out of its ponytail, and started over by brushing it.

Jeff snorted in laughter. "Yeah, well, I guess we _all_ have unhealthy attachments, Kogane. Me to Lance's beanbag chair, and you to your glorious mullet."

Keeping his face expressionless, Keith chucked the hairbrush at him.

* * *

Lance blinked. And blinked again.

The cashier at the auction house had cut him a check - and then cashed it - for the pocket watch. Hunk had been correct in his assessment; the refurbished antique had ignited a bidding war, netting the two Space Academy cadets an ungodly sum of money. There was more than enough to cover the jacket. In fact, they could have bought matching jackets, had they been so inclined.

"Wow, Hunk," he gushed as he shoved the folded wad of well-worn bills into his pocket, "you have outdone yourself. Really and truly."

The engineering student shrugged modestly. "All in a day's work."

"Dude, this took you _way_ longer than a day." Lance paused, turning to face his friend. He'd hardly ever been serious or earnest in his life, but at that moment, he had no choice but to step up to the plate. "You did something for me that nobody - not my parents, not any of my classmates, not even my best friend Ronnie - has ever done. I want you to know that I plan on repaying you."

Hunk shook his head. "Seriously, Dude, there's no need."

"Yes, there is." Lance nodded his head fervently. "We're going to that men's shop right now, Garrett. Before they close. I'm gonna buy that jacket. And then," he gave a dramatic sweep of his arm, "the rest of the money goes to you. Do with it as you like."

Now it was Hunk's turn to blink. And blink again. "Dude. You can't be serious."

"Of course I am." He placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "None of this would've happened if it wasn't for you. This was your idea, down to the last detail. You did all the work. Now you should be rewarded."

Tears welled in the engineer's eyes. "I don't know what to say."

"Come on, Big Guy. Let's go get us a jacket." Patting his friend on the back, Lance steered them towards the door and out of the auction house, where New York City and all of its grand adventures awaited.

* * *

 _What a boring night._

It was so late on Friday, it was practically Saturday morning, and Ginger was not a happy camper. She'd spent the entire evening waiting for Lance to show his face, and he still hadn't made an appearance. She hadn't gone out, even though she had been invited and she _should_ have. Now she was angry with herself for being so pathetic.

 _Come on, Gingie. You of all people have_ _never_ _had to wait on a guy. Give it up now before you lose all your self-respect._

In her pajamas and flip-flops, she padded down the hallway to the bathroom. The lights were way too bright, and her vision was blurry as she squinted beneath them.

"Just the girl I wanted to see."

 _Huh?_ She rubbed her eyes in complete disbelief. "Lance? Is that you?"

The hallway was otherwise quiet and empty, just the two of them. Lance leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a seductive grin on his face. "Well, what do you think of the jacket? I just bought it tonight."

Her vision back in focus, she reached forward to touch the buttery brown leather. The jacket fit him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders, strong arms, and lean waist. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound idiotic. Finally, she settled on, "You look great in it."

His hazel eyes lit up. "Coming from you, that's the best thing I've heard all night," he beamed.

They stood in silence for a moment, standing motionless against the wall. She was so close to him, her fingers still on the leather jacket sleeve. Finally, she pulled her hand away. "I was on my way to the ladies' room."

"Of course. I'll let you get to it." But he didn't move away. Instead, in the silence and emptiness, with no one to act as a witness, he pulled her in and kissed her lips.

It was one kiss, quick and soft, but the butterflies rumbled in her stomach and adrenaline shot through her veins. This was it - this was what she had been waiting for, practically since the very first day of school. Obviously, he had wanted the same thing.

With a wink, she pulled back and headed in the direction of the bathroom. "Good night, Cadet McClain."

"Likewise, Cadet Ellington."

Her lips tingled as she pushed the bathroom door open. Had she just kissed Lance McClain? Yes. Yes, she had. It was quick, it was private, it wasn't anything over-the-top, but it had happened. And it meant that he was just as interested in her as she was in him.

 _Finally,_ she smiled to herself, _I'm done waiting for my man._

* * *

 ** _THE END_**


End file.
